


A Rough Night

by Bluewolf458



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 01:38:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13020540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluewolf458/pseuds/Bluewolf458
Summary: Blair is camping... and the wind has risen





	A Rough Night

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Sentinel Thursday prompt 'cold and wet'

A Rough Night

by Bluewolf

The wind picked up during the night, battering the flimsy tent mercilessly.

Wakened by that wind, Blair lay, glad of the warmth of his sleeping bag, hoping that by dawn it would have lost much of its force, giving him a calmer day to pack up and make his way back to Cascade. At the same time, he knew that it was unlikely.

Blair was tired enough, after the lengthy hike he had done the previous day, that not even the wind battering his tent could keep him awake, but after that first wakening, his sleep was disturbed and a sudden *CRACK* was enough to waken him fully. He groped for his flashlight and switched it on, knowing what he would see.

Yes; the front of the tent sagged ominously. The pole had been bent almost halfway down by a sudden, harder gust of wind.

He sighed. Although he was still very tired, it was time to move, pack up and head down the track to where he had left his car. And that narrow track would almost certainly have branches, maybe even whole trees, down across it. But he couldn't depend on the damaged tent surviving until morning. Pack up now, all he would have to replace would be the one pole. Delay and the wind might rip the fabric, meaning he would have to buy a new tent.

He scrambled into his clothes, pushed everything into his pack, took a deep breath and, dragging his pack, crawled out to face the elements.

It was already beginning to rain - on a calm day, he wouldn't have called it heavy, but driven by the wind it was more than unpleasant. He turned his attention to the tent.

Because the wind kept tugging at it, it took him a little longer than usual to get it down. He managed to roll it up and push it and the bag of pegs into its bag, fastened it and the poles - he wouldn't leave the damaged one as litter - to his pack, then turned to the track.

The first half mile was easy, despite the steadily worsening rain that was soaking him, but then he reached the trees. And yes, he had been right; almost at once he had to negotiate a fallen tree. After that, there were the branches on the ground, though, luckily, no more fallen trees.

And it was cold. If he had been able to move faster he could have kept warmer, but he could only move slowly because of all the fallen branches. Their size varied, but even the smaller ones created a serious barrier to steady progress. And even under the trees there was little shelter from the rain; big drops were falling from the trees, adding more water to his already wet clothes.

He stumbled on, glad that even covered with fallen wood as it was, the track remained obvious, glad that he had put new batteries into his flashlight so didn't have to worry about the thing losing power and leaving him in the dark.

Impossible to maintain a steady speed, though he kept muttering to himself, "Cold... and... wet...and... cold... and... wet." Not a particularly encouraging mantra, he knew, but it had a marching rhythm that seemed appropriate.

And then - yes! There was his car. He fumbled the keys out of his pocket, threw his gear into the trunk. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to decide on his next course of action. Then he forced himself to move again, threw his sleeping bag and some dry clothes into the back of the car, fumbled his wet clothes off and dumped them in the trunk, slammed it shut and stumbled to the back door, got in, closed the door, wriggled into his sleeping bag and allowed his eyes to close again.

When he eventually awoke it was nearly midday. The wind was rocking the car slightly but the rain seemed to have eased off.

Reluctantly, he climbed out of his sleeping bag and pulled on his dry clothes; getting out of the car he went back to the trunk and, digging into his pack, he pulled out half a loaf of bread and some spreading cheese, and made a quick sandwich. There was nothing for him to drink, but he shrugged philosophically about that as he went to the driver's door. He put the key in the ignition then sat there while he ate, then he headed off down the road, wishing the car's heater was more effective.

At least the heater in his small apartment was efficient. He might get back to a warm environment before the cold and wet he had been experiencing gave him a severe chest infection.


End file.
